“Thanks for coming all the way out here to let me know, Cash. I appreciate the heads-up.” Ty Dyson shakes
my hand.
“We’ll do everything we can to set things right, Ty. If the accusations turn out to be true, we’ve got measures
in place to make sure the individual is held accountable and not the entire business.”
We leave the private meeting room and make our way toward the front door of the hotel. The place is
swarming with tourists and young people dressed in cheap suits. Conference attendees, obviously. Ty mentioned
he was a keynote speaker earlier this afternoon, at some junior professionals’ seminar.
“I wouldn’t have sold you my fund if I didn’t believe in you and your brothers, Cash. I’m sure you’ll figure
this out. Ke ep me posted.”
“Will do. We’ll talk soon.” Ty gets into the car that’s waiting to take him to the airport. Once it pulls out of the
hotel driveway, I head back inside. Hayley booked me into the hotel for two nights, but I really don’t need to stay
that long. I’ll message her and tell her to book me on an earlier flight for tomorrow.
For the first time since I arrived in Hawaii hours ago, I take in the view of the palm trees and the beach.
And the bar. Fuck, I need a drink.
I order myself a beer and a scotch on the rocks and take the drinks to a nearby table that’s in the shade, at the
beach end of the patio.
Taking a long sip of my beer, I watch a cluster of surfers for a while. It’s the first time in a very long time I
feel myself begin to decompress. When’s the last time I actually allowed myself to relax for five minutes? I can’t
even remember. Years ago, it feels like.
A young woman walks past the row of hotel lounge chairs. She’s wearing a short pink beach dress and
sunglasses. Her long, thick hair is a lustrous shade of dark brown with streaks of auburn and dark blond that catch
the sunlight.
Her legs are long and lightly tanned. She wanders a little further down the beach, laying out her towel. She
unwraps her dress to reveal a tiny animal print bikini.
Fucking hell. The girl is stunning. Her bikini barely covers her perfect curves. It’s not a thong but close
enough.
She pulls a book out of her bag and some sunscreen, which she smooths over her golden skin. Her long legs.
Her toned arms. Her full breasts, which are barely concealed by that minuscule bikini top.
Fuck me. My cock—which has not been enjoying its extended holiday from women, after the Rylee
disaster—thickens.
She’s fucking gorgeous. And young. She doesn’t look de eply tanned enough to be a local. And she’s not with
family or friends. Unless they’re off shopping or sightseeing, who knows.
I’m not the only one who notices her. The surf instructor finishes up with a couple of kids and walks over,
sitting down next to her.
She barely looks up. I can tell by her body language she’s not interested. But he’s persistent. For some reason
this annoys the fuck out of me. He says something that makes her laugh. He’s talked her into a lesson. I watch him
teach her for a while, becoming more and more mesmerized by the way the girl moves and the taut smoothness of
her skin.
She doesn’t get too close to him and I’m relieved by this. I can tell this is the first time she’s met him. She’s
giving off signals that this is a surf lesson and nothing more.
I have no idea why I’m so wildly relieved by this and I don’t bother analyzing it.
She’s cute as fuck and you haven’t been laid in months. It’s too long to go without. There’s your fucking
analysis.
She follows the surfer out into the water and I order another drink from a passing waitress.
The girl falls off a few times. I think Surfer Boy and I are both waiting for that tiny bikini to have a wardrobe
malfunction but it miraculously stays in place.
I’m glad it does. I don’t want to have to murder the surf punk. What the fuck? Who are you murdering now?
And why? But then she’s paddling again and she stands on her board. It takes her a few seconds to get her balance
but she does. She’s doing it. She’s surfing.
I have no idea why, but I’m so... proud of her. How many drinks have you had? She’s tenacious. Sassy.
Determined. And mind-numbingly gorgeous. My cock is fully fucking hard right now. She falls off, then climbs
back onto her board, paddling to shore with a huge smile on her angel’s face.
Surfer Boy follows her. I can guess what he’s saying to her. He’s inviting her to wherever he’s going tonight.
But she starts packing up her bag. She puts her short wrap dress back on but doesn’t bother tying it.
She dismisses him, saying goodbye, making her way back up the beach to the hotel.
The guy stands there for a minute or more, watching her go. But then he acc epts defeat and gathers up his
surfboards, heading in the other direction.
As she walks closer, I get a better look at her face. And her body. Kill me now. She’s a literal goddess.
“Impressive,” I tell her as she walks by my table. She looks around, like she’s not sure I’m talking to her. “Sorry?”
She’s wary but not intimidated by me. It’s refreshing to meet someone who has no idea who I am or how much
money I have. I work so much, the only
women I talk to on a daily basis are ones who are either working for me or wish they were.
“The surfing. Not bad for a first try.” “How did you know it was my first try?” “Just a guess.” She doesn’t
r eply but she’s taking in the look of me. My build. My suit. “You didn’t click with Surfer Boy?” I ask, to tease her.
And rile her. I want her to react to me.
Our eyes meet. Hers are a bright, variated green that basically slays me with the kaleidoscopic glow of them.
It’s a few seconds before she r eplies. “Oh, I clicked with Surfer Boy. He gave me the best ride of my life.”
I find myself laughing at her sassy come-back. The little minx. I want to eat that sweet pink mouth. I want to
feed my big cock between those perfect wet lips, sliding de ep until she moans. “I could give you better.”
Her face gets pink but she finds this funny. “You think so?” I’m seriously in lust. She’s so fucking cute. “I’m
free tonight if you want me to prove it.”
Am I coming across as a prick? The problem is, I don’t know how to come across any other way. My job
requires me to be cuttingly direct. It’s been a while since I exercised any other muscle.
Say yes anyway, gorgeous. Please. She laughs lightly. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m busy tonight.” “Doing
what?” I can admit I’m rusty. It’s been a while since I socialized with anyone other than my brothers or tech nerds.
She blinks long lashes. “I’m afraid that’s none of your business.” “Have a drink with me.” I have the urge to
get down on my knees and beg.
Another smile. “Maybe another time.” She glances back at me as she walks toward the hotel lobby. Damn it.
Don’t go. My cock throbs hotly and my heartbeat feels dark and needy. And I decide not to fly back to New York
tomorrow.